


Panic

by Teacandles



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Elevators, Gen, Past Abuse, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-28
Updated: 2012-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:39:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teacandles/pseuds/Teacandles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course, today of all days, he just had to go and get himself stuck in an elevator with Charles Xavier, his irritating neighbor from down the hall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Panic

**Author's Note:**

> Trying out the posting system here. This was written for a [prompt](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/5215.html?thread=5313375#t5313375) on the kink meme, but I've cleaned it up for this archive.

Erik would readily admit that he wasn’t the most personable guy in the world. He kept to himself, people already had the natural tendency to avoid him, and he found that he rather liked it that way. He had his personal space, and things were fine. Everything was in its proper place. That is, of course, until old Mrs. Collins went off to live with her daughter, and Charles Xavier moved in next door.  
  
Now, Erik wasn’t normally in the habit of talking to his neighbors (heck, he rarely bothered to learn their names). He had only known Mrs. Collins because she’d needed favors every now and again, and Erik wasn’t heartless. He could grab things down from the high shelf or help her wash dishes in exchange for a hot meal every so often. Free food was free food, and she had reminded him a little of his mother. She was non-threatening.  
  
Charles, on the other hand, was one of the most insufferable people Erik had ever met. No one was that nice, that friendly and that forcefully naïve without wanting something in return for their so-called ‘kindness.’ It took Erik almost a week to put to rest the suspicion that Charles was trying to sell him something. The man was either horribly devious or incredibly stupid in the ways of the world. And the worst part about him was he always over-shared. Everything. Erik knew things about the man that he never wanted to know about anyone.  
  
Charles had introduced himself to Erik the same day he moved in, boxes of all of his crap lining the hall, stupid and friendly and just a little ruffled from carting all of his things up from the ground floor.  
  
“Hi,” he’d introduced himself with open hand extended in greeting, “I’m Charles Xavier, your new neighbor.” And that was the start of Erik’s endless frustration.  
  
After that first fateful meeting, he always tried to make conversation if they happened to occupy the same space at any time, no matter how hard Erik tried to avoid him. And the visitors. They were infrequent, but it seemed that they all picked up on at least a few of Charles’s irritating habits. The one he saw most often was a woman who, as far as Erik would tell, was Charles’s younger sister (she was certainly frustrating enough to be related to Charles), though the way she acted sometimes had him doubting. Little sisters, in his very limited second-hand experience, were not supposed to drape themselves over their brothers (and everyone else for that matter) the way this girl did. She was cute, Erik had to admit, but far too young for him. His disinterest never stopped her from dropping by to flirt whenever she came around, though.  
  
It was hot, he was tired, and of course, today of all days, he simply hadto go and get himself stuck in the apartment building's only elevator with Charles.  
  
“Wait! Hold the door, hold the door.”  
  
Erik would have rushed forward to jam the button to shut the doors as quickly as possible, but his hands had been full at the time. Fucking groceries. Why had he picked today of all days to go shopping? He glared at the bags in his hands as a panting Charles Xavier slid into the elevator beside him.  
  
“Thanks,” he said, looking up at Erik with a smile. He was winded from his mad dash to the door. Erik could see the faint shadows of fatigue lining the underside of the shorter man’s eyes, but he said nothing. It was no business of his that Charles wasn’t sleeping.  
  
They both lived on the sixth floor, and Erik was sure that this was going to be the longest elevator ride of his life. He fought back a groan and braced himself.  
  
Charles looked him up and down from his place near the wall, his eyes catching on the bags in Erik’s hands. “Just finished the shopping, my friend?”  
  
“Yes.” _And you’re not my friend._  
  
“Are you going to be making something special tonight? I can’t recall ever seeing a lady friend stopping by to see you, but I’m sure a striking fellow like yourself would have no trouble finding someone to share the night with,” Charles remarked with a cheeky grin. Good lord, this man was the most irritating person on the face of the planet. Erik had never wanted to punch someone so badly in his life.  
  
“I’m not seeing anyone.” It wasn’t Charles’s business if he was dating. It wasn’t like Charles could ever catch a date with those frumpy old man, pseudo-college-professor cardigans and suit jackets with patches on the elbows he always seemed to wear. Lord, his closet was probably brimming with sweater vests.  
  
“Ah.” Charles was quiet for a minute, and Erik almost thought he was safe. “Would you mind some company tonight, then? I was supposed to meet up with my sister, but she canceled last minute. I don’t want to impose, though,” he added in as an afterthought. “I have a bottle of wine I’ve been meaning to open that I think you might enjoy.” Erik looked up at the ceiling and prayed for the numbers on the little screen announcing the floors to change faster. They were only on the third floor, and he was certain that he had done permanent damage to his teeth from grinding them after only a minute or so of being in here with this man. Charles was too nice to say no to, but the last thing Erik wanted was to invite the other man into his home.  
  
Suddenly and without warning, the elevator came to a stop. Odd. They hadn’t even reached the fourth floor yet. Erik scowled at the button panel and jammed the six. Nothing. The elevator didn’t budge.  
  
He pressed the thing again, tapping it several times to no avail. He tried the button to open the doors. Still nothing. It was pointless. They were stuck. He sighed and pressed the alarm. The light in the middle of the button lit up with color as the tiny bell chimed to alert whomever might be listening. He pressed it a few more times for good measure before wandering over to the far wall, sliding down to take a seat on the floor with his groceries at his hips. Charles eyed him nervously.  
  
“Erik, what’s going on?”  
  
Erik fixed him with a hard stare. It should be obvious by now, but Charles had never struck him as the most observant of men. “We appear to be stuck.”  
  
“Stuck?”  
  
He closed his eyes and pressed his head back against the wall. “Stuck, trapped, whatever you prefer.”  
  
Charles looked from him to the panel and rushed forward to ring the bell again. The bell’s tone echoed off the metal walls.  
  
“You’re not doing any good, you know.” He sat there in silence for a moment before opening his eyes and turning to Charles. “Do you have a phone?”  
  
“What?” Charles’s eyes were wide, and Erik could see his hands shaking. Crap. Charles was starting to panic. Erik was stuck in an elevator with his insufferable claustrophobic neighbor. Fantastic. Yes, this was _exactly_ how he had wanted to spend his evening.  
  
“Do you have a phone?” He asked again, enunciating each word with deliberate slowness to make sure the other man heard and understood him. “I left mine in my apartment when I went out.”  
  
“Oh.” Charles patted his sides and dug frantically in his pockets, his breath quickening with every passing second. “Oh god, it’s not there. It’s not there, Erik. I—” He swallowed and darted over to the control panel, pressing the alarm again and again. Erik was going to be hearing those bells in his sleep for the next month. When the alarm proved fruitless, Charles turned to the doors, pounding harshly on the metal surface. “Can anybody hear me? Hello? Hello? Is anyone out there?”  
  
“Calm down, Charles. I’m sure one of the maintenance people heard us. Or maybe one of the people on this floor. Someone is probably on their way to get us right now.”  
  
Charles didn’t believe him in the slightest if the look he shot Erik’s way was any indication. He went back to pressing the alarm. The bells echoed off the walls, the sound searing itself into Erik’s brain like a brand. Erik was losing patience.  
  
“Would you cut that out?”  
  
Charles hadn’t heard him. Or he was ignoring him. Either way it was starting to piss Erik off.  
  
The alarm was going as a constant litany now. It had been several minutes since they’d last moved, and Charles was still pressing the damn thing. Erik had had enough. He rose to his feet and stomped over to the other man, grabbing his wrist and pulling it away from the control panel. “What in the hell is wrong with you? Pressing that isn’t going to make anyone come any faster.”  
  
Charles had gone pale; the bags under his eyes were more pronounced than ever. “But what if they didn’t hear us? They’re not going to come if they can’t hear us.” He was shaking under Erik’s hands, his breath coming too fast and his eyes darting about the space like a frightened rabbit. Erik frowned and tried to look as non-threatening as possible.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
“I can’t—Erik, what if they don’t find us? What if we’re trapped here forever in the dark, and—”  
  
“Wait. In the dark?” Erik looked up at the lights. Everything was fine. The lights were still on, and the air conditioner was humming softly in the background, which meant they still had ventilation. Everything was fine. They were just stuck here for a while because the stupid thing was acting up a bit. “Charles, it’s not dark in here. What are you talking about?”  
  
“I just…” His eyes were watering, and Erik could feel Charles’s weight pulling him down. “Oh god.”  
  
Erik slowly eased him onto the floor. “Charles. Charles,” he called, trying to catch the other man’s attention as they went down. Charles was breathing far too fast. He might even be hyperventilating. Crap. Erik couldn’t afford to have the other man pass out right now. He could barely handle things as they were.  
  
He knelt down onto the floor and grabbed Charles’s face in his hands, forcing the other man to look him in the eye. “Charles, you need to calm down.” Erik was actually surprised at how calm he felt. He’d never been partial to enclosed spaces himself, but the edge of nerves that usually sprang up in situations like this was strangely absent. Perhaps he simply didn’t notice it because of how panicked his companion seemed. “Breathe.”  
  
Charles gripped Erik’s hands in his own and grounded himself. His palms were hot and slick with sweat, but he was gulping in more air than he had before. Whatever the hell Erik was doing was working, though he honestly didn’t know how. “That’s it. That’s it. Just breathe.”  
  
He let Charles go and shuffled over to the plastic grocery bags he’d left on the floor. He’d purchased some orange juice earlier, and that was what he went for. It wasn’t much, but it might help. He unscrewed the cap and peeled away the seal, stuffing the rubbish into his pocket for later. “Here. This might help.” He passed the juice over to Charles. “Drink, but do it slowly. I don’t want you choking yourself or something.”  
  
Charles took the bottle but didn’t move. The tears in his eyes were making their way down his face, and he was still shaking, though nowhere near as bad as before. Erik sighed and moved to sit beside him, their shoulders pressed together. He wasn’t going to force Charles to do anything. It wasn’t worth it.  
  
They sat there in relative silence, the sound of Charles’s heavy breaths bouncing off the walls. Erik tapped Charles’s knee. “You should drink that or pass it over if you don’t want any. I’m kind of thirsty.”  
  
Charles looked down at the juice like he was seeing it for the first time. He slowly lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink before passing it over to Erik. Erik took a drink and screwed the cap back on, letting the bottle swing in his hands.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
Charles nodded. He said nothing.  
  
Erik leaned back and rested his head on the wall behind him. “What did you mean?”  
  
“What?” Charles’s voice was soft, almost a whisper.  
  
“What did you mean? Before. About being in the dark.” He gestured up at the lights. “It was never dark in here.”  
  
“I—” Charles swallowed, looking over at the wall.  
  
Erik eyed him. _If there were ever a perfect time to over-share, Charles, this would be it._  
  
“My childhood wasn’t pleasant.” And he left it at that. Erik nodded and didn’t press the issue. He knew enough about troubled pasts to know that it wasn’t his place if Charles didn’t want to share this part of him with a random man in the elevator. He sighed as the conversation lapsed into silence once more and wished desperately that he had a watch.  
  
“Do you know how to play chess?” he murmured after a while.  
  
“What?” Charles looked over at him in confusion.  
  
“I asked if you knew how to play chess.”  
  
“I—oh. Yes.”  
  
Erik nodded. “I’ll take you up on your offer, then.”  
  
“What offer?” Charles must have forgotten everything they’d talked about before they’d gotten stuck.  
  
“About dinner. I wouldn’t mind some company after we get out of this mess.” He looked at Charles, a light smile tugging at his lips. “Besides, I think we could both use a break.”  
  
Charles smiled back at him. His face was still wet, but he seemed so much calmer than before. “I look forward to it.” He looked back over to the control panel. “Do you think they know we’re in here?”  
  
“I don’t know. Probably. You rang that bell for long enough.”  
  
“Should we try it again?”  
  
Erik pushed himself up from the floor without a word and pressed himself up against the door. He thought he could hear talking outside. He reached over and pressed the alarm again. The bells rang out, and they waited for help to come.

 


End file.
